Outwit, Outplay, Outlast
by Losille2000
Summary: Lucius wants his divorce proceedings settled so he can move on. Narcissa doesn't care, but Hermione refuses to let Lucius steamroll her client. Can Hermione outwit, outplay and outlast the one other person who is as stubborn as she is?


**Recipient:** Sc010f  
**Title:** Outwit, Outplay, Outlast  
**Rating:** Teen  
**Warnings:** Some language; EWE; UST. Sorry, no lemons to alleviate the pain.  
**Summary:** Lucius wants his divorce proceedings settled so he can move on. Narcissa doesn't care, but Hermione refuses to let Lucius steamroll her client. Can Hermione outwit, outplay and outlast the one other person who is as stubborn as she is?  
**Original Prompt:** 2. Hermione is Narcissa's divorce attorney, Lucius is representing himself, hilarity and sniping ensues and somebody winds up in bed with Lucius. (Though it's really mixture of prompts.)  
**Author's Notes: **Written for the first round of the LM/HG Fic Exchange at LiveJournal.

Also many thanks to a dear friend who took time out of her busy schedule to give this story a very quick and last minute beta job. Thank you!

----

_"There is not a thin line between love and hate. There is, in fact, a Great Wall of China with armed sentries posted every twenty feet between love and hate."- Dr. Gregory House_

----

She hated him. Absolutely, positively hated him.

Hermione walked into her office, slamming the door as she went. She could have used her wand to slam it, but it just didn't give her the same satisfaction as using her anger and slamming the heavy wood shut with a very pleasurable bang. With a growl, she threw her bag down on the desk, watching the loose papers there scatter in the air before coming to rest on the floor.

_Hmph. Serves those papers right,_ she thought.

She still didn't understand why Narcissa had chosen _her_ out of all the available divorce attorneys in Britain. Certainly there were less that were witch or wizard, but Narcissa had specifically sought her out to take her case. Hermione had just recently gotten her first job out of school, and barely even knew her way around actual, hands-on legal proceedings before Narcissa had appeared in her office one day. Her boss, Louis Fletcher, had said she'd been requested specifically.

That happened to be the exact moment her life had ended. Well, not ended, per say, but a very large dent had been put into it.

Nothing was simple with the Malfoys or Blacks. There were years of contracts and promises, shared property and assets that made this a rather difficult case. What continued to make it even more difficult was a cold, distant woman who wanted nothing to do with the case—she just wanted it done and her interests protected—and a man who, Hermione was certain, had no decent bone in his body.

The still married-but-separated couple squabbled. They complained. They'd hexed each other with some nasty, Dark magic.

And then Lucius fired his attorney, deciding that it was the only way he could truly make everyone's life a living hell, or as he put it "protect his own interests". Due to the fact he didn't have an attorney now, and he didn't have the knowledge or access to the appropriate proceedings, Hermione was given double the work for the same amount of money and ten times the dramatics.

Truthfully, she just didn't care enough about the case to actually work hard on it. As far as she was concerned, Narcissa and Lucius deserved each other. For all the suffering and pain they caused throughout their years, they should be made to pay. Especially since the Wizengamot had miraculously cleared them of most of their charges after the last Hogwarts battle. Someone had to punish them for something. But what Lucius ultimately succeeded in doing was bringing _everyone_ along with him, whether they were involved or not, whenever he decided he didn't like the way something was going.

Now he had taken on a new approach.

And that approach was to drive her up a fucking wall.

It seemed that the divorce had nothing to do with Narcissa, at least not now. Now it was all about Hermione, and wearing Hermione down until she snapped. It would be a comment here, or a comment there. She was certain he'd made a jab at her being a Mudblood, but she hadn't been able to prove it because he'd said it in a low mumble that only she could hear. He wanted her to make a mistake… get so angry she cursed him and got into her own trouble.

They were close to settling the case, finally. But Lucius didn't like what he had given to Narcissa thus far. Instead, he wanted it all to go by the wayside so he could start fresh with a new attorney of Narcissa's, possibly one he could actually buy off.

If he succeeded in getting what he wanted, he could hold off on any trials for another year.

However, unfortunately for Lucius Malfoy, there was one other person who was as obstinate as he was.

And that was Hermione Granger.

So she would continue hating him, while hopefully winning Narcissa quite a lot more than had been originally planned, just because she didn't like him.

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts. She walked around her desk and dropped down into her chair.

"Come in," she called.

The door creaked slightly as it swung open to reveal a ginger beacon of happiness. Ginny stood in the doorway, carrying a bag of curry-scented takeaway in one hand and a bottle of alcohol in the other. Hermione's stomach growled menacingly, reminding her that she had skipped lunch today because she'd been busy doing a last minute filing before meeting Narcissa and Lucius for mediation.

"Take your pick," Ginny said, walking in and shutting the door.

"As much as I would just like to drink my dinner, I need the actual sustenance," Hermione replied. "How did you know I was here?"

Ginny sat down in one of the chairs on the other side of her desk and began arranging the food. Hermione sat up and moved her bag and other things to get them out of the way.

"I Flooed earlier and they said you were in a meeting with the Malfoys," Ginny said. "Knowing what you've been going through with them, I imagined you would be late… and I stopped by your place and you weren't there."

Hermione chuckled, already feeling some of the stress slide off her shoulders. She was lucky to have friends who understood. "How did you get away from Harry?"

"Easy," she said. "I threatened him with no sex for a week if he didn't let me go."

"You're cruel," Hermione said.

Ginny grinned. "Very, but you know he deserves it."

Hermione nodded her head and reached for the bottle of wine. She read the label, finding that it was very old, very potent, and rather expensive pinot noir. "What's the occasion?"

"Spending time with you," she said. "You realize it's been two months since I've seen you? And even longer since I've been out of the house without a child or husband in tow."

"Has it really been that long?" Hermione yawned and conjured up two cups for them. It wasn't anything fancy, but they were perfect for holding a lot of wine.

"I figured if I wanted to see you, I just had to come down and make you see me," she teased.

"Trust me, I'd be at yours and Harry's every night if I had the chance," she said.

Ginny laughed. "So this case is really getting to you."

"I expected it to get to me somewhat, but not as much as it has," Hermione said, grabbing for the curried chicken carton. "I'd hurt Lucius Malfoy if I met him in a dark alley and no one would know it was me."

"You should," Ginny said.

Hermione sighed and took a long sip of the wine. "Maybe I should. The only problem is, despite how annoying he is, and how much I hate him, I can tell he still loves Narcissa. Maybe not in the way you love Harry, but there's still something there. And Narcissa won't even look at him. It's really quite sad."

Ginny looked thoughtful. "So despite all the pain you're going through, you feel sorry for Lucius Malfoy."

"I… guess," she said. "Maybe that's why I continue to put up with it."

"I thought it was because of the rather obscene amount of money you are set to earn at the close of the case," Ginny said.

"That certainly helps," Hermione said. "But I guess I do feel sorry for him and the hopeless romantic in me wants to see them work it out. Yes, even Lucius bloody Malfoy."

Ginny pushed the wine bottle toward Hermione. "Just drink from the bottle, girl. We've got to get your thoughts straight."

Hermione laughed at her friend. "He's really quite intelligent. Knows a lot about the law without being a lawyer."

"Hermione, that's from needing to know the law so he can find the loopholes in it for his businesses," Ginny reminded.

"That said, though," Hermione said and smiled ruefully, "he's intelligent. It always takes someone intelligent to be a decent criminal. He's gotten himself out of two life sentences and a Dementor's kiss because of it."

Ginny sat back in her seat, regarding Hermione carefully. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you might possibly have a thing for him."

Hermione scoffed. "I most certainly do not have a 'thing' for Lucius Malfoy. I merely sympathize with respect to where he is coming from. That doesn't make the other things he does to make my like a living hell any less important, though."

Ginny nodded her head. "Of course. Eat up, before it gets cold."

----

And she did eat, and she did drink, but her mind never left what Ginny had said. Even when their conversation had turned to other things, Hermione had still been fixated on what Ginny insinuated. Maybe it was time to call it quits if her brain was so addled that she had started thinking about Lucius in such a way. She wasn't supposed to pity her client's soon-to-be ex. She was supposed to despise him and take him for all he was worth.

But now that Ginny _had_ mentioned it, Hermione didn't wonder if there wasn't something to it. Did she have a bit of a crush on Lucius Malfoy? Certainly, he was attractive, even in his fifties. As wizards went, he was in his prime. And he did have his good points; she could see where he was coming from, but then there was that whole Death Eater past, history of murder, and his intense dislike of all things Muggle.

Even that, though, didn't seem to bother him about her any more. As a matter of fact, he had somehow started seeing her as an equal and treating her as one, even with all intentional irritation. This was very odd. What was even odder still was that she hadn't noticed it until now.

If she'd really been looking for something, she could even ascribe his attention as a mutual attraction to her. Something akin to a boy picking on a girl he liked in primary school. Could it be true?

No. Not at all. Despite the fact that she may find him attractive, or that he could possibly find her attractive, there was a rift as wide as the English Channel between them.

Hermione yawned again, focusing back on the black script in front of her. Well, at least she tried to focus on it. After more than three-quarters of a wine bottle, it was hard to do much of anything, but she had to try to get some reading done. She limited herself to doing things that weren't particularly important, but she did find herself looking through her legal texts trying to find an instance where she might get Lucius into some degree of legal trouble. So far she hadn't found anything, but that wasn't saying much. She was barely making sense of anything worthwhile at the moment.

It was about ten that night when she heard the loud _pop_ of Apparition in her back garden, followed by an annoying rapping on her kitchen window. As she walked into the kitchen, she could see what was rapping against the window—a silver snakehead with bright moonlight glinting off its surface.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, and groaned. This was new. He'd never deigned to appear at her home before. As a matter of fact, she didn't think he was supposed to know where she lived, in a predominantly Muggle area.

She held her wand at her side, prepared for anything. With a Malfoy, she had to be. She unlocked the door and stepped out into the balmy summer air. There he stood in her garden, trampling the weeds.

"What do you think you're doing here?" she asked.

"There is something that requires your attention," he said. "I thought it wouldn't hurt to pay you a visit."

Hermione frowned. "At ten in the evening?"

He merely gave her a small smirk, and suddenly she was aware of something very unsettling. With a discerning gaze of his cold gray eyes, he carefully perused the length of her body. Hermione shifted uncomfortably on her feet, and looked away from him, the heat of his stare almost too much to take. She crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously.

"You shouldn't cover yourself, Miss Granger," he said. "It is a waste."

"Stop with your flattery," she said, glancing back at him. She was just a little bit disconcerted to see the look of appreciation in his eyes as he tore his gaze way from her chest. "Tell me what you want so you can leave as soon as possible."

Lucius' lip quirked slightly. "Who said I wanted to leave quickly?"

"I did," she replied, setting her jaw. "If you came to annoy me further, it worked. I was having a decent night until you decided to stop by."

"Do you really dislike me that much, Miss Granger?" he asked.

Hermione frowned. "'Dislike' is too weak a word. 'Hate' would be more appropriate—'loathe' is even better."

"At least we are in agreement on one thing," he said.

She pressed her lips together. "What do you want, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I'd like for my wife to discontinue her arguments," he replied. "And I'd like for you to come work for me as my legal counsel."

Hermione took a step back, flabbergasted. "You've got another thing coming to you, buddy, if you think I'm even going to speak to you after this is all done. And it will be done, whether you like it or not. I have more than enough to go to trial and win everything you have already said she could have, and then some."

"Why do you dislike men?"

She spluttered, finding it very difficult to acclimate to the one-eighty mid-argument. "What? I don't dislike men. I love men. It's men like you, however, that give other men a bad name."

"What have I done wrong?" he asked.

"I'm not even dignifying that question with an answer," she said and turned to go back into the house. "Please leave, or I will call the proper authorities and say you are trespassing and stalking. See how that goes over with any magistrate: Muggle or Magical."

Lucius looked offended. "Malfoys do not stalk. They merely… follow."

"Why are you following me?" she asked.

"No reason," he replied.

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, praying for some form of serenity before she truly lost it. "Go away, Lucius."

"I've not finished yet," he said.

"Don't make me hex you," she muttered.

Lucius let out a low derisive laugh at that. "I'd like to see you try, girl."

She hoped the silent hex she sent his way hit him, but he knew it was coming and deflected it. Before Hermione knew what had happened, she was on the ground, staring up at the night sky, a man with a sneer and long pale blond hair looking down at her.

"I cannot believe you just did that," she said. Her legs wouldn't move, confirming the existence of a leg-locking jinx.

"Now you've got to listen to me," he replied.

"I'm not changing my mind. The arguments go on as planned," she said. "And you're getting the divorce finalized."

Lucius looked at her skeptically. "Did it ever occur to you how easy it would be for me to end your life and hide you somewhere so no one would ever find you?"

Hermione was sure the worry in her eyes showed through her outrage. How dare he even suggest such a thing. "Go home, Lucius."

"You're a very peculiar woman. Here I am threatening your life, I have your wand, you have no means to protect yourself… and you ignore me and tell me to go on my way. Do you ever listen to what anyone has to say?"

"If they're worth listening to," she said.

"How can you say what I have to say isn't worth listening to?" he asked.

"Past experience," she replied.

"It has got to be pretty lonely up there on your moral high ground," he replied.

Not only was her buzz officially wearing off, but a headache was starting to form behind her eyes. She needed to get inside. She needed to go to bed. She needed Lucius to get the hell out of her life for good.

"The moral high ground is wonderful," she said. "How's it down there in your gutter?"

"And you call me a snob," he replied, shaking his head and clicking his tongue against his teeth.

Hermione groaned, moving her legs slightly. The jinx was wearing off slowly but surely. She sat up and used the railing along the edge of the porch to hoist herself up. Her legs weren't completely ready to hold her weight yet, but she was strong enough that she could stand with the support of the railing.

It was a little too much too soon, though, and she began to topple over again when she overcompensated. She prepared to take a nose dive, trying to decide in that split second the best way to land without hurting anything else worse than her pride.

However, a curious thing happened. Before she could hit the ground again, strong hands were on her waist, lifting her up. She also realized, quite suddenly, that she was very close to a warm masculine body, and that the hands that held her were quite strong and sure themselves. He smelled of spicy cologne and curry.

Hermione realized at that moment that she wasn't completely unaffected by Lucius Malfoy. But as dazed as she was, reality shot through her quickly when his hands, whether of their own accord or not, shifted lower and gripped her hips.

She moved as much as she safely could away from Lucius, though her legs had not yet been completely released of their jinx. He didn't loosen his grip on her hips. As she looked up at him, though, she noticed that his breathing was shallow and the pupils in his gray irises had dilated.

"I, uh…" she began. "Give me my wand and let me go."

"You will fall again, Miss Granger," he said lowly. "And it would be a pity if you injured yourself further."

"The jinx is wearing off," she said.

His gaze held her still for moment, so still in fact, she didn't connect that she'd stopped breathing for a few short seconds until she felt lightheaded.

What the hell was wrong with her?

Hermione pushed back again. This time, his fingers released their hold on her. Her head spun slightly and she screwed her eyes shut, grabbing for anything to steady herself. She found purchase on the railing.

"I need to go lie down," she said.

"You shouldn't go to sleep," he said. "You may have a mild concussion. Someone should stay with you."

"I'm fine," she said, though her head continued to spin. "It's just all the wine from dinner."

"Miss Granger," he said again.

If she hadn't been slightly concussed and also still nominally drunk, she would have sworn there was a note of concern in his voice.

"Yes, a good pinot noir can do that," he replied.

"How did you—"

He stood still, watching her closely, as though waiting for her to catch up. Hermione felt the cold fingers of fear wrap around her spine. Lucius seemed to sense this, and relaxed his posture. He held out her wand to her with a slight bow of his head.

"You—" she started, and took the wand. "How _dare_ you!"

"I thought for sure you would have questioned the wine a little bit more," he said. "The Potters are a lot of things, but wine connoisseurs they are not."

"What happened to her? How did you get her hair?" Hermione asked. "The things we talked about… you knew things only she would know."

"Do you really take me for some amateur, Miss Granger?" he questioned. "I've been following you long enough to know more about you than you probably do."

"Ginny. Where is Ginny?"

"She is at home with her family. It was my fortune to meet her in Diagon Alley a few months ago and have the prescience to get a few strands of hair." he replied. "Surprisingly lovely witch, despite the stock she comes from."

Hermione knew she must look like a gaping fish. They stood in silence for moment, as she tried to make sense of this. "I—you—we—"

"I must admit, the conversation was very enlightening," he said. "Not quite what I had expected, but no less enlightening."

Finally out of her shocked state, Hermione tried not to stutter at him. "Leave me alone! You had no right, Malfoy. Get off my lawn."

Lucius held his hands up defensively and took a few steps back.

"No, wait!" she said, her head starting to throb now. "Why did you Polyjuice yourself? Were you trying to find something out to help your case?"

He merely shrugged. "My true intentions are mine to know."

Hermione groaned and stomped her foot like a child. "Damn you, Lucius Malfoy. Good riddance!"

With little more pomp, she walked back into the house and slammed the door. She cast a locking charm before heading back to her bedroom. But she wasn't thinking clearly. She forgot that it was Lucius Malfoy she'd left standing out on the stoop and he was not bound by normal moral codes. It was as she was peeling her shirt off, she connected the fact that Lucius Malfoy did not give up as easily as it seemed and that a simple locking spell on the door wasn't enough to keep him out of the house. She stopped her movements and stood still, listening to the room around her.

Silence, except for the few electrical appliances in her house whirring with life.

She shook her head. Maybe he had gotten her message loud and clear.

When she turned around and found him lounging against the door frame to her room, she should have been more frightened than she actually was, but in the back of her mind she had expected it from him.

"Were you just going to let me continue undressing?" she scoffed, crossing her arms protectively across her chest again, though this time, the action did actually protect her modesty.

He smirked, but it was clear that he was paying attention to one thing, and that wasn't what she was saying. Hermione was both worried and surprised that he had such a predatory look in his eyes, and with her in context. This was Lucius Malfoy. He had the pick of the Wizarding world, and he certainly didn't like Muggleborns. Yet, he was eyeing her like… well, like a man who had gone too long without a female's company in bed.

What concerned her the most, though, was that she found herself excited, and she couldn't completely say she was offended or enraged that he'd technically broke into her home only to come watch her undress and get ready for bed.

There had to be some Muggle psychologist somewhere that would have had a heyday with this whole situation, but at this moment she just didn't give one bloody fuck. Not with a beautiful man like that looking at her like he was.

"It's been awhile," he said.

"I'm not giving you pity sex," she said. "Not when I know you could go find anyone else."

"Perhaps," he said and stood straight.

Hermione sighed. "You're doing this to exert some form of control over me. You're trying to prove to me that you can win at this game."

Lucius stepped into her room, and strode over to her. His hands were on her shoulders then, sliding up to her neck, making her lift her head to meet his eyes. "Am I?"

"I can scream," she said.

"I can make you scream," he said, leaning down over her, his lips just a breath away.

Hermione knew that it felt good to have his hands on her, and if he were to take her right now, she wouldn't complain. The roller coaster that her emotions had been on all day needed some form of release, and even if this relief was precipitated by the one man who drove her up the proverbial wall and caused the problem in the first place… well, then, so be it.

She'd not noticed the few steps backwards she'd taken as he had advanced on her, and that her knees were pressing back against the mattress. Bent backward, nearly to the point that she would lose her balance, she finally uncrossed her arms and gripped onto his shoulders to hold her balance. She was pressed firmly to him now, and could feel that he was not unaffected by her in the least. As a matter of fact, she found she was quite impressed with what she felt beneath his robes.

"Would you like me to make you?" he asked.

She answered with a breathy, "Yes."

Hermione could barely believe she had heard her own voice say it. But as sure as she had said yes, and as sure as she was he would finally kiss her, he righted her on her legs, stepped back and straightened his robes.

"Goodnight, Miss Granger," he said. He turned on his heels and strode out of the room, leaving her staring after him, extremely hot and bothered with nobody to help her deal with it.

Hermione couldn't believe she'd let this happen. That she'd let him do this.

"Did that just happen?" she muttered to herself, pinching her arm. It hurt. She sighed and closed her eyes. "Fine, you win this one, Lucius."

Next time, he wouldn't know what hit him. She didn't know the true intelligence of continuing to play this game with him, especially since she already felt like the loser standing here as keyed up as she was with no decent way to release it, but she also found she couldn't _not_ play just a little bit longer, just to see where it might end up.

Somehow this game had stopped being about Narcissa and Lucius and the divorce a long time ago. Somewhere along the line, it had become about Lucius, Hermione and the game of getting under each other's skin.

She'd been oblivious about his true intentions until now…

But that didn't mean she hated him any less.


End file.
